Expecting
by Angelgear
Summary: Virgil and Richie conduct an experiment out of sheer boredom...and Virgil experiences some adverse effects...


Author Notes: Hi, this is my first Static Shock Fanfic, and my first story for this site. I plan on writing something a little more serious later on. Well please let me know what you think, thanks!!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Static Shock or any of the related characters except for the original character of Sludge.

On with the story…

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Virgil and Richie were at the gas station, just lounging around with nothing to do. They sat, looking very bored, dressed in their costumes.

"Ugh… there's no crime! For once it's all quiet, no trouble…I guess that's great, but now it's so boring." Virgil complained.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. What _did _we do before the whole superhero business?" Richie asked.

Virgil sighed heavily. "Why don't we just go home and read some comics or something?"

"Okay, I guess." Suddenly a wondrous, brilliant idea struck Richie. "Wait, I have an idea. I've been working on this invention, and I've been wanting to try it out. This is the perfect opportunity to test it out! Man, this is gonna be so cool, you'll see!"

Richie skated off to another room without hesitation.

"Richie, wait, what are you talking about? Richie? Hey, man, what's this invention? Richie? Rich, man, don't drag me into one of your weird experiments!" Virgil sighed again. Once he started, there was no getting through to him.

Moments later Richie returned with a large metallic contraption and a smile on his face. Virgil crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. He looked over the strange machine suspiciously as Richie set it down on the table. "Richie, what is that?"

Richie seemed to be brimming with excitement. "Okay, okay, this is gonna be so totally awesome, dude," he said, trying to control the giggles escaping him, "see, this machine here can analyze our DNA, as well as detect metahumans. And _so_ much more…"

Virgil bit. "That _sounds_ useful…"

Richie put on his most charming smile. "That's not all, folks! It can also clone and replicate metahuman powers!"

"Huh?"

"That's right! It can clone any metahuman's, or normal human's, DNA and then replicate their powers." Richie grinned, then scratched his head. "Well, it's just an early build, it hasn't had any field experience."

"And I suppose that's where I come in?"

"Hey, it doesn't make sense to replicate my own power, now does it?"

"I don't know Rich, don't you think this might be a bit risky?"

"Ah, don't worry about it, V. All my other inventions worked flawlessly, haven't they?"

Virgil eyed him skeptically. "Yeah, sure…"

"Aw, come on, V! It's not like there's anything else to do anyway."

The prospect of more boredom seemed to be the catalyst he needed. Virgil sighed once more, "Fine…I can't believe I'm doing this…"

"Great! You won't regret it dude!"

"Why do I find it hard to believe you?"

A while later they were behind the gas station, Richie finishing up his preperation of his machine. It turned out to be a Backpack-like mechanism, which he strapped onto Virgil's back, Richie's own Backpack helping out with the final tweaking.

"Alright, that should just about do it. Now, just use the scanner I built in and scan me."

Virgil stared at Richie, his mouth slightly agape. "And I would do that, how?"

"Here, just press this button here. Geez, I thought even _you_ could figure it out."

"Shut up. This button?"

"Yeah."

"Here goes…"

"Whoo, feels all tingly…"

"Shut up!"

A red laser emitted from the machine, scanning Richie's form. The machine beeped and the laser disappeared.

"Okay, now it's gonna scan your DNA, and then presto! It'll hopefully work."

Virgil looked down on his own form as it was engulfed by the laser's sight. He then giggled strangely. "It does tingle!"

Then nothing. They waited a few moments. Still nothing.

"Um, what's supposed to happen?" Virgil questioned.

"Uh," Richie raised a hand to his chin, "do you feel any different?"

"No, not really…"

"You don't feel any ideas raging in that head of yours?"

"Not particularly."

"Huh, that's weird."

"Well, listen, Rich," Virgil said, gingerly removing the machine from him, "It's gettin' late, let's go home. We got a whole day of school tomorrow, and I am definitely not looking forward to that algebra test, so I'll be needing my rest."

Richie bent down and examined the machine, "I guess so…" He seemed somewhat disappointed. "I really thought it would have worked…"

"Hey, at least you got a working tickling machine. You know how useful those are."

"Ha ha. Funny."

A couple of weeks later, Virgil started feeling very strange. It started one morning when he woke up feeling very queasy. He threw up after breakfast and so he decided to stay home from school. Afterwards, he felt fine, but some mornings he woke up like that, nauseated and then throwing up. He didn't know why, but eventually it went away, so he forgot about it. At school, he always had to get up to go use the bathroom, a practice he always tried to avoid. He felt tired throughout most days, although his family attributed it to laziness and he thought it was because of late-night patrols. He got lots of heartburn and headaches, again he thought it was because of the stress of being a superhero, and of course school. Even more weird and distressing, especially to Richie, was the strange mood swings Virgil would have. School was getting to be really stressful, but Virgil had never acted like that before. Even his sister and father noticed the changes in Virgil's attitude. He even started gaining weight after a couple months, and Virgil had enough. He remembered the machine Richie had used on him, and deduced through fine detective work that it had to have something to do with it. Perhaps an adverse effect. One fine day Virgil and Richie were in Virgil's room, studying for an exam, and Virgil decided to bring it up.

"Richie, remember that machine that was supposed to replicate metahuman powers?"

"Hmm?" Richie looked up from his book, deeply engrossed in some sort of science book, "Oh, yeah, that. I trashed it. It didn't work, remember?"

Virgil nervously glanced to the side. "Well, I think I'm experiencing some sort of side effects from it."

"Side effects? Oh, you mean that you've been sick these past weeks? Maybe it's a stomach virus or something."

Virgil narrowed his eyes menacingly, and placed his hands on his hips authoritatively. "Oh, so the perfect Richie Foley can't make a bad invention once in a while? So you're saying that it couldn't possibly be your machine that did this to me? You're saying that somehow it's my fault? I must have contracted it myself, huh?"

Richie's eyes widened. "V, what are you talking about? How am I supposed to know what that machine would do?"

Virgil glared at him. "I can't believe you, Richard! I trusted you, I'd trust you with my life, and you'd throw it away like trash. Is that all I mean to you, huh!?"

"Virgil, what on earth are you talking about!?"

Virgil crossed his arms. "Well you obviously don't give a crap about me. I'm just some guinea pig to you. That's okay."

Richie sat up, exasperated. "Virgil, why are you acting like this? You're acting like you're…" Richie suddenly stopped himself.

"Why don't you finish your sentence, huh? What, I'm acting like I'm crazy huh? Well you did this to me, smart guy!"

Richie was off in another planet. He place a hand to his chin. "Hmm, perhaps there _were_ some side effects…"

"Hello! Are you even listening to me?"

"I'll need a blood sample, oh, and maybe one of those…"

"Richard!?"

Richie continued mumbling to himself.

"Richie…?"

"Virgil I'm thinking…"

At that, Virgil instantly began bawling. He buried his head in his hands, sobbing uncontrollably.

"V! V, I'm sorry, man! Geez…"

"Go ahead, just…leave me alone…I can see you don't care…"

"V, I…," Richie was utterly confused, "V, I do care…but…you're acting pretty strangely…"

Virgil suddenly pounced on him. "So now I'm strange in addition to being crazy!?"

"Virgil, would you kindly get off of me?" Richie said calmly.

It seemed Virgil suddenly realized how weird he was acting. He slowly backed away from him. "Whoa…sorry, man. I don't know what came over me…"

"Well, I think I might, but I'll need to do a blood test to be sure."

Virgil stared dissolutely at the floor. "Sure, whatever, I want to get to the bottom of this."

So Richie went home with a blood sample somehow, and conducted a blood test with his handy dandy blood testing equipment. Nervously, Virgil paced back and forth in his room, awaiting Richie's phone call. Then the phone rang. He quickly answered it, and Richie was on the line.

"So?"

Richie hesitated. "Virge, you're never going to believe this."

"What, what is it?"

"It's, kinda…hard to say…" Richie's voice cracked.

"Just tell me."

"Sure you wanna know?"

"Richie!"

"Alright, alright. I guess it's easiest to just spit it out. Okay, Virgil, you're…pregnant!"

"WHAT!?"

"You heard me, you're pregnant."

"Richie, how can that be?"

"It just is, man"

"Richie, I'm going to kill you right now."

"I'm not joking."

"Neither am I."

Richie sighed, "I'm serious man, that's what the results show…"

"But Richie, how?" Virgil still didn't believe him, it was just too farfetched, but he wasn't getting anywhere debating it.

"Apparently, the machine did more than just scan and replicate metahuman powers. I think it also combined the DNA that it scanned. Yours and mine."

"But wouldn't you know if it could do that? I mean you invented it!"

"Hey, Backpack helps too, you know! Sometimes he adds, little extra features…"

"Little extra features!?" Virgil was fuming.

"Hey, you volunteered to try it out."

"But you said – " Virgil stopped himself. He closed his eyes and counted to ten. "Okay, whatever, all I know is that you better come up with some cure for this."

"I guess I can try, but it's not like it's a disease…"

"Richie…"

"Okay, okay, I'll see what I can do."

"Fine."

Virgil hung up. He couldn't believe this. It couldn't be true. That was totally impossible. Richie wasn't that smart that he could invent a machine that could alter a person's body, right? That's just impossible, he thought. Although, he noted, that his stomach _was_ getting larger…

Well into his first trimester, Virgil had to begin hiding his growing "weight problem" by wearing baggier clothes. He also started experiencing weird cravings, like pineapple and pickle sandwiches, or mozzerella cheese covered eclairs. He ate enough to feed a small nation, and frequently stole food from Richie's plate at lunch. His moods swung back and forth like he was bipolar. One minute he'd be yelling at Richie like there was no tomorrow over the smallest things, then the next he'd hug him in the middle of the hallway on their way to class, telling him he was his best friend. Richie learned to just shut his mouth and let Virgil vent to his heart's content.

By his second trimester, Virgil was already experiencing lots of discomfort, swollen feet, and his stomach was getting even bigger. He wore ever more baggier clothes, and it became a chore to do anything.

Once they were at Virgil's house, watching a movie.

"Richie, go get me some popcorn." Virgil sat sprawled on the couch, alleviating and trying to spread the uncomfortable weight.

"Sure, Virge," Richie said despondently. He was tired from the previous night's long and scathing phone call from Virgil expounding on his inherent incompetence.

He returned from the kitchen with a full bowl, and placed it on the table in front of Virgil's face. "Oh yeah, get me a soda, too. Cut me some celery while you're at it. Put some of that stuff I found in the fridge earlier on it, too. Oh, and raise the volume, I can hardly hear the t.v." Virgil reached into the bowl of popcorn and stuffed his face with a handful

"Sure thing, V…"

Another time they were at school. Richie was sleeping in the back of the class, severely tired because Virgil needed someone to talk to because he couldn't sleep and he was feeling that nobody cared about him. Virgil nudged him sharply in the ribs, waking him up. "Richie, wake up. How am I supposed to get my notes if you're not awake to take them?" He glared down at the weary eyed Richie.

"Virgil, man, I am like…so…tired…" he yawned and laid his head back down.

Virgil smacked him behind the head. "Richard! Get up and toke my notes!"

Richie sat up and had no choice. He wasn't about to start a scene in the middle of class.

"You know how much my writing hand is swollen." Virgil crossed his arms and laid back in his chair.

Richie glanced at him sidelong, hurriedly copying down the notes before they were erased. "Yeah…"

After class, Richie would not only be carrying his own things, but he'd be carrying all of Virgil's books and backpack as well.

"Wouldn't want to put any undue stress on the baby, now would we," he'd say.

"Of course not, V…" Richie would reply through the pile of books he was struggling with as they made their way through the halls.

As such, Richie was desperately trying to find a way of ridding Virgil of this burden. He did all the research he could, however, and came to the conclusion that he would have to carry the child to term. After telling Virgil these findings, he seemed fine with it.

"It's okay, Rich. I never knew how great it would feel to have a life growing inside of you. Oh! Hey it just kicked!"

"It did?"

"Yeah, feel!"

"Uh, that's okay."

"What, don't you care about your own child?"

"My child?"

"Yeah, your child! You contributed to this mess, you know!"

"Virgil…"

"Feel!"

Reluctantly Richie felt Virgil's rapidly swelling stomach. He could feel the little kicks inside.

"Hey, wow, yeah, I felt it!"

"See isn't it great!"

"Kinda weird…"

Luckily for them, Dakota was experiencing a crime dry spell during much of the pregnancy. Still, it was rather difficult for Static to squeeze into the now uncomfortable costume, with his huge belly hanging out, and lug himself onto his flying disc and go patrolling around town. He'd have Gear there to help, but even so, he wasn't ready to go fighting some crazy bang baby. Instead, he found it more interesting to argue with Gear about everything under the sun. Gear sighed inwardly and just took it all. He didn't want to cause Static any undue stress, concerns about the baby, of course.

Several months passed, and Virgil was almost due! The anticipation was getting to them both. The discomfort was intolerable; his stomach was enormous, and it made his feet hurt as if he walked around with weights in his shoes. His stomach pressed on his bladder, making him go almost every five minutes. He was having a difficult time hiding it from everyone. It seemed almost a little too obvious, but he tried his best to disguise it with the baggiest clothes he could find. His sister and father thought he was going for a more gangsta look, but he didn't care, and they didn't ask, so whatever. As Virgil gained weight, however, Richie seemed to be getting skinnier. Virgil's appetite was voracious, and he ate everything in site, and usually everything Richie had in his possession. Richie had to sneak snacks before he went to bed and before he woke up for breakfast. It was that bad.

One particularly ominous night, Virgil got a call from Richie telling him about a villain that was terrorizing the streets.

"Virgil! There's a bang baby terrorizing downtown. I'll handle it, you just rest up and don't worry about a thing."

"No, I've been waiting for some action for the longest time. Plus, no offense, I don't think I can leave this job up to you, Gear."

"Hey!"

"Sorry Rich, but it's the truth. You're just back up; Dakota needs Static."

"Virgil! I know it's the hormones talking, so I'll ignore that. You just sit tight and I'll take care of everything."

"Aw, that's so nice of you, Rich. You're a great friend."

"So that means you'll stay put?"

"Now would I be a good friend to just let you get pummeled? Of course not. I'll be downtown in a jiff!"

"Static! No! Virgil, stay put! Think of the baby!"

"Bye!"

Static shut off his Shock Box, burying it in the jacket pocket of his costume. He waddled away, jumped on his flying disc, and charged it with electromagnetic energy. He was hardly able to lift himself, but finally he managed, and he flew out of his bedroom window, towards downtown Dakota.

He finally made it, and discovered Gear already there, fighting a toxic sludge spewing metahuman who was melting the asphalt with his radioactive vomit.

"Gear! What are you doing? This guy's melting the street! How could you let him get away with that?"

Gear, hovering in the air, panting heavily, chucked a Zap Cap at the villain, who dodged it and spewed some vomit at Gear's head, and Gear narrowly missed it. "I'm _trying_ to stop him, bro…"

"Well, excuse me! No need to get an attitude. Gear? Gear! Are you paying attention?" Static floated over in front of Gear, his hands placed on his widened hips.

"I'm a little busy at the moment…" Gear dodged another barrage of toxic spit, then threw another Zap Cap, which bounced on the metahuman's head, exploding on impact and lightly zapping him with an electric charge. He was slowed momentarily, but he kept coming, trying to knock both Static and Gear out of the sky.

"Hey, Static! I'm over here! And the name's Sludge!" the sludge spewing menace called after him, then shot a blast of his toxic venom. Static turned just in time, and formed a protective electromagnetic shield, deflecting the onslaught.

"Excuse me, what's your problem, don't you see we're busy here!?" Angered, Static summoned tremendous power into his fist, then shot a couple blasts of electricity at the villain, shocking him silly, leaving him unconscious on the ground.

"Whoa, good job, Static."

"Well, what do you expect…" Static turned and faced Gear, "…no thanks to you!"

"Huh?"

"You heard me! This is all your fault!"

"All my fault?," Gear pounded his chest, "Me? I was trying to stop him! You got him anyway."

"Yeah, well I wouldn't have to if you were doing your job right!"

"What are you talking about? I had him right where I wanted. He was playing right into my trap," Gear folded his arms and looked away in disdain.

"Sure, yeah, you had everything in control…just like that stupid machine that got me pregnant in the first place."

"Hey, you volunteered didn't you? I didn't put a gun to your head."

"I was doing you a favor! I bet if I hadn't, you probably would've started bawling like a baby!"

"Me bawling? Ha, I think you have me confused with yourself. I'm not the one who called every night looking for 'emotional support'!" Gear flailed his hands in the air.

As they argued, the metahuman they were fighting was slowly gaining consciousness. He lay in a pile, rubbed his head, and noticed Static and Gear arguing. He then was shocked and horrified to see Static's huge belly. "Huh, what's going on?" 

Static gritted his teeth and clenched his fists angrily. He then grabbed his protruding belly. "You see this, Gear, you see this!? This is all your fault! You are the one who got me pregnant!"

"What the…" Sludge raised his eyebrows. "Whoa, this is a little too weird for my taste…" He got up as quietly as he could and stole away into the shadows.

"Well it takes two to tango, Static," Gear said.

"I didn't ask for this!"

"Well neither did I!"

"Sometimes your incompetence just makes me so mad!"

"And your mood swings are enough to drive a guy insane!"

"_My_ mood swings!? What about you, Mr. Manic-Depressive?"

"What _are_ you talking about?"

"Nothing! Obviously nothing. You never take me into account." Static folded his arms and turned away.

"Doh! Static! You're lucky your carrying this child, or else!"

"Or else what, Gear, or else what? Or else you'll – " Static suddenly stopped, a shocked expression abruptly appearing on his face.

"What's the matter now, run out of award-winning comebacks?"

"Gear…I think my water just broke…"

Gear straightened up, a similar surprised expression gracing his countenance.

"Oh my god…now?"

"Yep, it looks like it's time…," Static lowered himself on his disc, beginning to breathe heavily.

"Um, uh, okay, okay…" Gear was evidently freaking out, "Okay, we gotta get you to a hospital, dude…"

"No, no hospital…they'll find out my secret identity."

"But Static! I don't know anything about delivering a baby!" Then a startling realization hit him hard, lack a sack of bricks. "Static, how _are _we gonna get the baby out?"

"Wow, you know, this whole time I never even thought of that…ahhhh!" Static screamed in increasing agony. The pain was now beginning, and this baby wanted out!

"Static…ah….what do we do?" Gear hovered around him like a chicken with it's head cut off, his nervous voice cracking as he spoke.

"Just take me to the gas station…"

Gear sighed deeply. "Alright, let's go."

Moments later, they were at their headquarters. They had set up out back, since Virgil was giving off lots of electrical discharge each time the contracting pains had come. Richie had also boiled some water for some reason.

"What's the water for," Virgil strained, bearing the brunt of the pain.

"Um, I don't know…they always have it on t.v."

"You're an idiot, Richie! Ahhhhh!"

Richie raised his arms to shield his face as bolts of lightning shot out from Virgil, shooting every which way, zapping the nearest objects. "Aw man, Virge, how are we gonna do this?"

Virgil winced from the pain, clenching his teeth tightly. "I don't know," he grunted out, "But all I know is that this baby's coming…now! Ooowww!"

Richie screamed as the lightning bolts electrified him.

A while later, things had quieted down, and Richie approached Virgil with a little bundle of joy wrapped in a blanket. "Look Virgil! He's so tiny!"

"Let me see…" the tired Virgil received the child with outstretched arms. "He's so small…"

Richie peered at the child over Virgil, who was laying on a couch they had put inside the gas station. "Wow, V, he's got both our DNA. I wonder if he's got our powers too."

"Yeah. Well, that was quite an experience getting him out."

"And how…man, I never wanna do _that_ again."

"Let's never speak about it again."

"Sure thing, man."

Virgil peered lovingly at the little light brown skinned baby, with little tufts of blonde hair on his head. "Aw, he looks so peaceful. So I guess you're going to have to get a job now, Richie."

"Huh?"

"Well, how do you expect me to raise a child _and_ be a superhero? You've go to step up to the plate, Rich, and be a good dad."

Richie just stared at Virgil, who grinned back warmly.


End file.
